By David J. Jackson
In Classrooms and Barrooms, David J. Jackson recounts his studies in the course of a semester-long Fulbright Fellowship in Poland the place he taught sessions on the college point and realized extra approximately Poland and himself than he anticipated. From the trepidation linked to studying he used to be assigned to coach in a urban thought of by means of so much to be a nasty desolate tract to assembly American and varnish colleagues for the 1st time, Jackson's concerns vanished as he quick realized to simply accept the demanding situations Poland offered. midway via his time in Poland he stumbled right into a bar populated with an ever-changing forged of eccentric locals who welcomed him into their global. every one stopover at led him to a different revelation approximately Polish background and tradition. Alternating between hilarious, somber, and uplifting, Jackson's studies within the study rooms and barrooms of Poland goal either to notify and entertain.
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Additional resources for Classrooms and Barrooms: An American in Poland
Sample text
We asked our student guides where we should go, and they pointed out a studentoriented place across the street from the dorms as the nearest bar likely to be open on a Sunday night. We invited them to join us, and a few did. The students were at first reluctant to let us purchase drinks for them, but eventually they relented. After I’d had a few beers and a shot of Żubrówka vodka I asked one of the guides just what in the Hell they were thinking about in taking us to the caves. ” I asked, incredulously.
Chapter Four (Dis)Orientation At the orientation in Wrocław our rooms were located in identical fifteenstory cement dormitory towers built in the 1980s. They are named “kredka” and “ołówek,” “chalk” and “pencil,” and, not surprisingly, they are not beautiful buildings. But we each had our own little suite, with two bedrooms, a small kitchen, and a bathroom. They appeared to be built for four inhabitants during the school year. The rooms were spartan and utilitarian, but they soon felt like home sweet home, especially after the Herculean efforts of our student guides from the University of Wrocław achieved internet connections for each of us.
I was so relieved, I felt like singing. I possess a deep, if flat, baritone, and it rang off the walls of our narrow tunnel as I sang out: The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down Of the big lake they called ‘Gitche Gumee’ The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead When the skies of November turn gloomy With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty. That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed When the gales of November came early. The reaction of the other Fulbrighters was just what I’d expected: much laughter and a little singing along.